The battlefield was a landscape of chaos and carnage, a nightmarish tableau painted in shades of red and black. Amidst the clamor of clashing steel, the roars of monsters, and the cries of the dying, Canna stood as a figure of grim determination and unrelenting power. The Bloodfang Scythe in his hand pulsed with a dark energy, its blade thirsting for the blood of his enemies.
The storm he had conjured continued to rage above, casting an eerie, flickering light across the scene.
With a fierce cry, Canna surged forward into the throng of monsters, his scythe sweeping through the air in broad, deadly arcs. Each swing unleashed a torrent of energy, cleaving through flesh and bone as if they were paper. The skill "Reaper's Sweep" sent waves of dark energy crashing into the enemy ranks, obliterating everything in its path.
Monsters were torn apart, their bodies reduced to bloody chunks that rained down upon the ground, further staining the already crimson-streaked earth.
The air was thick with the scent of blood and charred flesh, a macabre perfume that clung to the survivors' senses. Canna moved with a lethal grace, his every motion a dance of death. He activated "Blood Pact" once more, and the scythe drank deeply from the sea of blood around him, its power growing with each slain foe.
The voice of Skal echoed in his mind, a dark whisper filled with a twisted satisfaction.
"Yes, more! Feed me their blood, master. Feel the power surge through you. This is but a taste of what you can achieve."
Canna's body thrummed with energy, his stamina, mana, and health replenished as fast as he expended them. The Bloodfang Scythe made him nearly inexhaustible, a relentless force of nature on the battlefield. He summoned "Fire Breath," exhaling a stream of searing flames that swept over the monster horde, incinerating hundreds in an instant.
The flames roared with a life of their own, fueled by the blood-soaked ground, turning the battlefield into a hellscape of burning flesh and smoldering remains.
As the battle continued, the true scale of Canna's power became apparent. The Bloodfang Scythe, an artifact of unimaginable power, drank deeply from the blood of the fallen, its thirst insatiable. Each drop of blood it absorbed fed into Canna, his strength and vitality seemingly endless. He was a force of nature, an unstoppable juggernaut of destruction.
Skal's voice echoed in his mind, a dark purr of contentment. "This is what I live for, master. To see the world bathed in blood, to feel the life drain from your enemies. But remember, there is always more to conquer, more to destroy."
Canna, though attuned to the battle, felt a chill at Skal's words. The scythe's power was seductive, its call to destruction intoxicating. Yet, he knew that he wielded this power with a purpose—to protect, to survive, and to prevent further atrocities. As the Harbinger, he bore the weight of that duality, a bringer of both salvation and doom.
The battle reached a crescendo as Canna unleashed one final, devastating attack. Channeling all his elemental power, he activated "Create Storm" and "Oath of Thunder" in unison. The sky responded with a fury, a massive bolt of lightning crashing down into the center of the battlefield. The ground exploded in a shower of earth and stone, the shockwave flattening everything in a hundred-meter radius.
The remaining monsters, caught in the blast, were obliterated, their forms disintegrating in the face of such overwhelming power.
As the dust settled, Canna stood amidst the devastation, the storm clouds dissipating above him. The battlefield was silent, save for the crackle of dying flames and the distant groans of the dying. The air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke, a testament to the brutal efficiency of Canna's onslaught.
Canna looked around, his gaze meeting that of Mortem, Vorgrim, and Grimruk. They had done their part, and now stood victorious amidst the ruins of the monster horde. The defenders on the walls watched in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the scale of the destruction wrought by this one man and his companions. Don't miss out on m-vl-em-pyr
The kingdom of Avaloria had been saved, but at a great cost. The fields were littered with the dead, a grim reminder of the price of survival. As Canna surveyed the aftermath, he felt a mixture of satisfaction and sorrow. The battle was won, but the war was far from over. He knew that the true challenge lay ahead, in the choices he would make and the paths he would follow.
The legend of Canna, the Harbinger, would only grow from this day—a tale marked by both immense power and a quest for redemption, intertwined with destruction and a glimmer of hope.
As the sun rose over the blood-soaked fields, Canna realized that the path he had chosen was fraught with violence and chaos. Yet, he resolved to stay true to his ideals and pursue his goals, no matter how challenging the journey ahead might be.